A Thin Ray of Hope
by BenedictedToPie
Summary: Draco can't stand to be in Lucius' shadow any longer. Maybe this is the right time to make a stand. 'And in that very moment, when the sky was stormy grey, buckets pouring down, a thin ray of hope dawned.'


In his earlier years, Draco thought of his father as his personal superhero, who went around saving the day for him. Draco stopped believing that when his father 'crucio'ed him when he was nine for knocking one of his dad's potion over. Draco had gotten his first scar, both mentally and physically.

Lucius and his son drifted apart, and Draco lowered his expectations of his father. Draco then chose to believe that his father, even though irrational at times, was a good man. The belief showed the first signs of cracking when he saw his father making deals with Lord Voldemort, being a Death Eater and torturing people with Unforgivable Curses. Draco expectations disappeared completely when he was ordered to lie, cheat, steal and murder at the young age of fifteen.

But stubbornness was one of Draco's enhanced traits, so the boy who still loved his father dearly, even though holding absolutely no respect for him, had one last expectation that Draco thought was never going to be broken. It was on the ground boundaries that made Draco's father his father: To love Draco.

Over the years, he had his doubts and certainties, but in the end Draco figured out that his dad loved him not as a person or even a pet, but more like a prized possession. Draco knew that his father wouldn't shed a tear if he died, but more likely would kill the person who broke his little 'toy'. Just like the time he had tried to kill Draco when he broke his vase.

The fact that Draco's own father never loved him was a big blow, and his feelings of betrayal, sadness and anger were quickly transformed into extreme loathing for Lucius. That was why the minute he was of age, he packed up his belongings with a deft flick of his wand and trudged determinedly toward the front door which had the Malfoy crest emblazoned on. Draco planned to open that door, go through it and never pass it again.

Draco's shoe made contact with the bottom step rather noisily on one of the marble steps that led down into the dining room which was where his father was halfway through his cornflakes. Lucius was eating calmly before Draco came in and caught his attention.

Draco stopped at the bottom step, his father watching his every move, 'I'm leaving.'

'You are not,' Draco's face never changed, and with a non-verbal spell, he caught Lucius off-guard and caught his wand; Draco father's was furious.

'I am, and I'm not coming back. Not after everything you did.'

'I've been nothing but nice to you! What have I done? _What have I done?_'

Draco looked at his father's agitated look and sighed. He knew that his father would never let him go and just to keep him for longer, he would bicker with him. Draco once thought that this was the meaning of love, but seeing how different the other parents treated their kids, he had reluctantly acknowledged that his father was not like the fathers that picked their children up and spun them around with apparent zeal.

'Because you've physically and mentally harmed me. Because you do things that harm the Wizarding society. Because you forced me to do things that I don't want to do. Because you made me kill my own mother after torturing her. Because you are everything that I hate put into one person. Because you are such a sadist you were painfully aware of my unwillingness and used me. Because I loved you and you never loved me back. Because you think of me as a toy. Because. You. Are. No. Father. Of. Mine.' Draco closed the distance between them with a few steps, knowing all the spells in the world couldn't demonstrate the strong loathing that he held for his father. Draco had to harm Lucius physically to release his bottled up turmoil feelings, pummelling into Lucius with much vigour as his hate could provoke, echoing each 'because' with a punch; but Draco stopped punching from the last 'because' onwards, because those words were the biggest blows that he had yet to deliver. Feeling his fists connect with skin, all the emotions pouring out of Draco, he knew that all of this would hurt him, but for once, he didn't care what my father felt anymore.

Draco never hit his father in places which would steal his consciousness away, because he wanted his father to hear every part, every word of his speech. The words that Draco spoke had severed the remnants of the strong bond they once had. Then, Draco hit him in the face, the last blow that he would ever deliver to his father and he knew that he wouldn't ever be sorry for it. The crack that came afterwards, signalling that Draco's balled fist had broken his nose, was noted by Draco with a strong sense of grim satisfaction.

Draco then left his father there with his head lolling backward, nose bleeding. He picked up the suitcase he was previously levitating down the stairs and walked with purposeful strides out the grand doors of Malfoy Manor. Out of his previous hell-holed life. Out of his father's grasp.

Draco determinedly walked. He walked away from the stinking hell-hole he called home for the past 17 years. And in that very moment, when the sky was stormy grey, buckets pouring down, a thin ray of hope dawned.


End file.
